


$500 Professional Dominant Versus $5k Professional Dominant

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: Buzzfeed: Worth It (Web Series)
Genre: Coming In Pants, Eye Contact, Humiliation, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Original Nonbinary Character - Freeform, Pants wetting, Podfic Welcome, Predicament Bondage, Sex Worker, Shibari, Subspace, Wax Play, attempted humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 10:13:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16532597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: TheWorth Itboys try out two different professional dominants.





	$500 Professional Dominant Versus $5k Professional Dominant

**Author's Note:**

> Big thank you to punk-rock-yuppie for betaing for me! 
> 
> * * *
> 
> While I have some experience with kink, I've never gone to a pro. I apologize for any factual errors in this fic.

“This is a horrible idea,” said Andrew. “We’re gonna lose all of our advertisers.”

“We’re not gonna lose our advertisers,” said Adam. “We’ve done kink stuff before, on the show. The Try Guys did it, remember?”

“The Try Guys do all sorts of things that the rest of us wouldn’t get away with,” said Andrew. 

Adam shrugged.

“Why are you agreeing to this in the first place?” Andrew tried addressing Steven this time.

“I’m not the one getting tied up or whatever,” said Steven. “It’ll be like the tattoo episode. I can tag along, make color commentary.”

“What if I don’t want to get tied up and beaten?”

Andrew crossed his arms over his chest.

He was already losing this battle, but goddamn if he wasn’t going to at least put up a bit of a fight. 

“You don’t have to get tied up and beaten,” said Steven, in what he probably thought was a soothing voice.

Steven was bad at “soothing” - he was a bit too excitable. 

Andrew covered his face, and he gave a long, low sigh. 

“What, exactly, are we doing?”

“It’s for Buzzfeed Scarlet,” said Steven, and he was pulling his chair up, wearing an earnest expression. “We can full on show you getting, uh, penetrated - “

“I am _not_ getting fucked on camera,” Andrew interrupted.

“Well, okay, but we could still show it, if you were,” said Steven.

“I don’t want to take my pants off,” said Andrew. “I know I could, but I don’t think the internet needs to see that.”

“The internet doesn’t have to see anything you don’t want it to see,” Steven said. “But if you decided to change your mind, it’d be an option.”

“Why are you going along with this again?” Andrew shot him a baleful expression.

“I’m trying to broaden my horizons,” said Steven. He made some kind of dismissive gesture with one hand. 

“... right,” said Andrew.

There was something going on here, something he was missing.

He gave Adam and Steven a long, searching look, and got the standard eyebrow raise and beaming grin back. 

Welp. 

That was a big help. 

* * *

Which was how Andrew ended up in a spacious apartment, sitting on the floor with no shirt on, as a tall, white person of indeterminate gender carefully uncoiled dark green rope. 

It was kind of weird, to be shirtless on camera; he wasn’t often shirtless in videos, after all. Although it wasn’t as if he was exposing that much.

Steven was sitting on the couch, and Adam was filming. 

The person was talking, and Andrew was spacing out, just a bit.

“So,” they said, and that seemed to be a signal for Andrew to pay attention again, “are you ready?”

“I’m ready,” said Andrew.

“BDSM fact,” said Steven, from his spot on the couch, and the camera dutifully swung over to look at him. “The letters stand for Bondage, Domination, Submission, and Masochism, but they _also_ stand for Bondage, Domination, Sadism, Masochism!”

“Right,” said Andrew.

Jack began to wrap the rope around his chest, and it was a bit like some kind of fancy climbing harness. 

“This is nylon bondage rope,” they told the camera.

“Are there different types of rope?”

Andrew knew it was a dumb question - of course there were different kinds of rope - but still. It helped to get people talking.

“Oh yes,” said the Dominant, and they began to talk, explaining the merits of different types of rope.

Andrew let it wash over him, losing himself in the sensation of the rope moving across his skin.

“Right,” said the Dominant (Jack - their name was Jack), “how are you feeling?”

“Pretty good,” said Andrew. 

“So we’re gonna do a struggle tie,” said Jack, “like we talked about.” 

“Right,” said Andrew.

They’d talked about all of this - a “struggle tie,” lots of looking nice for the camera.

Andrew had gone along with it easily enough, because why not, right? 

“So I’m going to tie your arms behind your back,” said Jack, “to start with, and we’ll see where we go from there.”

“Do I get a prize if I get out in a certain time frame?”

They gave him a long, slow look like something out of a certain class of late night movie. There were promises in that look that Andrew didn’t entirely understand, and Andrew had to remind himself that he was on camera and also this was not the time to get a boner.

Although he wouldn’t be judged if he did.

Had Zach gotten a boner, the time they’d done that thing with the dominatrix? 

Andrew would have to ask.

The rope was nice, though - it squeezed him, as it wrapped around his chest, around his waist, until he was good and tied.

“I feel like a chicken,” Andrew told the camera.

“... what?”

Steven shot him a confused look.

“You know, like… when you truss a chicken up?”

Andrew wriggled his fingers, and then Jack was stepping back.

“Okay,” they said, looking down at Andrew. “Now get out of it.”

“Hm,” said Andrew, and he yanked at the ropes holding him in place.

There was something… calming about this - about being trapped like this, about being _squeezed_ , being held in place.

He could be led around by the rope around his chest, without too much effort.

If he stood up, he’d probably be off balance.

… okay, yeah, that was his cock beginning to swell in his jeans. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have worn jeans, come to think of it.

* * *

Andrew got out of the tie, eventually. 

It took effort, and a whole lot of wriggling. 

By the time he’d gotten out _completely_ , he was sweaty with some rope burn, and Steven was getting more fidgety, his leg jiggling, rubbing his hands together. 

Jack promptly tied him up again, with almost startling efficiency. 

“So how’s it feel, Andrew?” 

“It’s pretty good,” Andrew allowed. “It’s tight.”

“How are your hands?”

Jack leaned in, and squeezed Andrew’s hands carefully - they were now in front of Andrew, pressed into his chest.

“They’re good,” Andrew said, and he squeezed their fingers for emphasis.

They grinned.

“Cheeky,” they said, and they patted his cheek. “Now get out of it completely.”

“This might take a bit,” said Andrew.

“What if I… distracted you?”

Jack’s hands were moving down Andrew’s chest, pausing to tweak his nipples, and Andrew hissed in through his teeth.

He was aware of his cheeks turning red, of his cock getting harder, of his heart beginning to beat very loudly in his ears.

He made eye contact with Steven, more to play for the camera than for anything else, and found Steven staring at him with a slightly wide eyed expression. 

Andrew grinned at him, and then he winked. 

Steven actually _blushed_ , which was impressive, and then Jack was burying their hands in Andrew’s hair, pulling his head back, and the pain sent little jolts down Andrew’s back, his toes curling in his socks.

“How’s that for distracting?” 

Jack’s voice was sweet, and now they were on the floor with him, pressed up against his back, breathing right in his ear. 

“Pretty distracting,” Andrew agreed.

“How would you feel about me putting you in a new tie?”

“What sort of new tie?”

They told him, using quite descriptive language.

Andrew kept his eyes on Steven, who was blushing so hard that he looked like he was about to pass out.

Then Andrew nodded.

“Sure,” he said. “Let’s go for it.”

* * *

Andrew was now standing up.

He was still wearing jeans, but now the rope was between his legs, on either side of his cock, and that was… well, that was certainly _interesting_ , to be sure. 

He was on tiptoe, because “I can take a little bit of discomfort” was apparently the wrong thing to say to a professional Dominant, although he wasn’t gonna complain too hard.

“So this,” Jack told the camera, as they ran their hands across Andrew’s rope covered chest, “is what’s known as predicament bondage, although it’s a pretty mild version of it.”

“Is it?”

Steven’s eyes were glued to Andrew, moving up and down Andrew’s body.

Andrew would have taken it as flattering, if he could concentrate on anything but the slight burn in his calves and the way the rope was pressing against his dick through his jeans.

… at least their audience would just see the bulge - not his actual dick, and the type of people who watched Buzzfeed Scarlet were usually interested in seeing bulges.

Andrew assumed, at least. 

His hands were tied behind his back, and the rope of the chest harness was attached to a ring that had been connected to one of the ceiling’s support beams. 

“What makes it predicament bondage?”

Steven’s voice was as chirpy and friendly as ever. 

“See, if this was proper predicament bondage, I’d have, say, tied his ankles to his wrists, so that if he tried to straighten up, it would make his arms be pulled further behind him. So no matter what he does, he’s uncomfortable. It’s a predicament.”

“So what makes this in particular predicament bondage?”

Steven was jiggling his leg, his elbows on his thighs, and his expression was intense.

If Andrew didn’t know better, he’d have thought that Steven was getting turned on by this. 

“Well,” said Jack, and they tugged on a particular piece of rope, which made the rope grind against Andrew’s dick through the denim of Andrew’s jeans, and Andrew’s hips rolled forward. “If he tries to stand flat on the floor, he'll be pulling too tightly on his groin. So he has to either get on the balls of his feet, or have his dick pulled on and his arms yanked back.”

Adam was coming around, filming Andrew's bound arms, the way the rope contrasted with his pale skin, the way the sweat was dripping down his back, the rope abrading him.

This was going to make for a good video. 

Andrew was already beginning to soak through his boxers - who knew having his dick squeezed with rope would be so nice?

He was going to need to do laundry, when this was over. 

Not that he didn’t stick his underwear in the laundry every day anyway, but… still.

Wow.

He was noticing a lot of things from a long way off.

LIke the sensation of the rope, running up and down his chest, or the way that Jack’s fingers were yanking on his hair, forcing his head back. 

His cock throbbed like a broken tooth, and he was beginning to shake.

He was sweating, too.

“We should have put you in a meaner tie, Drew,” said Steven, and he sounded positively _gleeful_ as he said it.

“Who is this “we,” exactly?”

Andrew would have preferred his voice to be a bit less… shaky, but what could you do?

The rope was doing interesting things to his dick, and to his chest as it went across his nipples, and all of it was just… one big nerve ending.

The rope was surprisingly soft - who knew rope could be that soft? It was burning, just a bit, as it moved across his bare chest as he shifted position, but it was still… it was still _good_. 

All of him was on edge, and he was beginning to shake, and then Steven was shifting in his seat, biting his lip, pressing his thighs together.

Andrew let his eyes flick down, to give Steven a once over, and his cock twitched like he was about to have an orgasm, the sensitive head practically abraded by the denim of his jeans, still held in the rope. 

… oh.

Because he _was_ about to have an orgasm.

How about that?

He kept eye contact with Steven, as sweat dripped down the backs of his knees, between his shoulder blades, down his neck. 

And then Jack leaned in and plucked the rope that was connecting the rope harness to the rope around Andrew’s dick, and that rubbed… something, or maybe it was Steven looking at him with wide eyes, the camera on him, all of it enough to make the sweet pleasure that had been simmering rise up to a boil.

Andrew came in his pants.

He came in his pants like a goddamn teenager, his hips jerking forward, his hot come soaking into the thin fabric of his boxers as his cock twitched and spasmed, pulsing against him, leaving him wet and shaking, his breath coming in desperate, ragged pants. 

The sweet pleasure rolled through him like the ocean, and it left him limp in the rope, his feet flat on the floor, his arms throbbing a bit from the strain. 

“You’ve got a wet spot in your pants,” Steven said, and he sounded like he was far away. 

“Sorry ‘bout that,” said Andrew, faintly dazed. 

That was a good orgasm.

Different sort than he was used to, to be sure, but… still. 

“Why are you apologizing to me about it?” 

“I don’t know,” said Andrew. “Seemed like the right thing to do.”

“Well,” said Steven, “if you’re just gonna hang around like that….”

“I’d give you the finger if you could see my hands,” Andrew said, still breathing heavily. 

“I do believe that’s a session,” said Jack in a bright voice. “Ready to come down?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

* * *

Andrew was untied.

Untied, given cookies, given a glass of water, as he sat on the couch, his cock stuck to his thigh with his own jizz.

Steven was uncharacteristically quiet, but then again, had Steven ever actually _seen_ another person have an orgasm?

Maybe it was something like culture shock, or… whatever the equivalent was.

Andrew was a bit loopy, in some nice, floaty space, still warm and tingly from his orgasm. 

Steven put a hand on his shoulder, and it was warm, slipping a bit in Andrew’s sweat. 

“So,” Steven said with a brightness that sounded almost fake, “you ready to go on to the next one?”

Andrew gave a thumbs up - talking seemed to be a bit too much effort right now. 

* * *

They stopped at a diner, and Steven was… full on _hovering_.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

He was squeezed into the booth next to Andrew, and Andrew was aware of all of the spots where they were pressed together. 

He was hyper-aware of his skin - it was all _there_ , covered in nerve endings, brushing against his clothing, picking up on the coolness of the metal table, the warmth of Steven’s own skin.

“I’m okay,” Andrew said again.

“You just seem kinda… out of it,” said Steven.

“Steven,” said Andrew, “I know you’ve never had sex, but have you ever had, like, a really good workout, and then you’re riding on endorphins? Maybe a good massage?”

“I’ve experienced that a few times,” Steven said, and his cheeks were turning red, which Andrew counted as a win, even though Steven was notoriously easy to embarrass. 

Every little victory, right? 

“I don’t know if you’ve ever had an orgasm,” Andrew continued, “but it’s… it’s kinda a mix of those two.”

Steven glanced around for a camera that wasn’t there, and then he cleared his throat.

“I have,” he told Andrew. “A few times.”

“You have?”

Andrew shoved more french fries into his face, because he was suddenly starving. 

“Had one. An orgasm. A few times.”

“A single orgasm, multiple times?”

Now Andrew was being a shit, but, well… how could he resist?

There was something about Steven that made him an eternal easy target, and Andrew never missed a chance. 

“Oh, shut up,” said Steven, and he elbowed Andrew in the side.

Andrew rolled his eyes, elbowed Steven back. 

“But that’s… what I feel like. The mix of the two things. Post workout endorphins plus post orgasm endorphins plus… I don’t know.”

“We should be filming this,” Adam said. “This is some quality banter.” 

“I need a little bit of time not on camera,” said Andrew. “I just had an orgasm for the internet at large.”

“You need some new pants,” said Steven. 

“Do I?”

“You’ve got a visible wet spot,” said Steven. “I feel like it’d look bad to go to a five thousand dollar dominatrix -”

Andrew coughed on his milkshake, and Steven whopped him on the back, which made him groan. 

“Point taken,” said Andrew. “Where can we get pants?”

“I’ll get you a nice pair of pants,” assured Steven. “Don’t you worry about it, okay?”

“Please don’t get me a pair of your ridiculous skinny jeans,” said Andrew in a tired tone of voice. 

“You’re going to see a _dominatrix_ ,” Steven said. “An expensive one! You should look sexy!”

“I can look sexy without being able to read every wrinkle on my nutsack,” said Andrew. 

Steven was blushing, but he made a dismissive hand gesture. 

“Just trust me, okay? I know how to make people look good.”

Andrew shot Adam a look, in hopes of some kind of salvation. 

Adam’s expression was completely unsympathetic. 

Jerk.

“You can nap on a couch at the office while Steven goes to get you pants,” said Adam.

“Can’t I go home and sleep it off? Maybe have a shower?”

“There are showers at work,” said Adam, undeterred. “I’d rather you not fall asleep and be unreachable. We’ve been on the waiting list for this dominatrix for almost eight months.” 

“Wow. Eight months?”

“I hate showering at work,” Andrew groused, and he shoved more fries into his face. 

“You _will_ make a good impression,” said Steven. 

“I’ve talked to her before,” Andrew said defensively.

“You did, but… you wanna put your best foot forward. And your best foot is not sweaty and stained with… other bodily fluids.”

“You mean jizz?”

Andrew mainly said it to make Steven squirm.

Steven blushed, and Andrew held a fry out to Steven, right in front of Steven’s mouth. It was something like a peace offering but maybe, just maybe, a little something else, too. 

Steven took the fry, and was Andrew imagining things, or did Steven’s lips brush against Andrew’s fingers?

… nah.

Andrew was just keyed up and reading too into things.

* * *

Andrew did indeed get a chance to sleep at work - he found an empty office, flopped onto a couch, and was out like a light before he heard the door click shut behind Steven. 

He might have imagined it, but he thought someone rested their hand on his head, right before he fell asleep. 

* * *

Andrew was woken up by Adam, who prodded him in the shoulder. 

He blinked up at Adam. Tucked under one arm was a shopping bag.

“Rise and shine,” said Adam. “How are you feeling?”

“Awake,” said Andrew, and that was almost true.

His head was full of achy cotton wool, and his eyes were dry and sticky. 

He rubbed his eyes, and he stretched, sitting up - he must have drooled in his sleep. His chin was damp.

“Go shower,” said Adam. “You look like a wreck.”

“I feel a bit like one too,” said Andrew. 

“Well, a good shower should wake you up,” said Adam. “Anyway, you smell a bit ripe.”

Andrew rolled his eyes, but he stood up, making his way towards the company showers.

* * *

Andrew washed his _everything._

There was some kind of fancy shower gel in the bag - Steven must have really wanted to make a good impression on this lady.

He shaved his face, and he washed his hair, his junk, his underarms, his everything.

By the time he came out, he was tingling all over, as awake as he’d ever been. 

He was all ready for… whatever this was going to be.

Rope made of fancier materials? 

Some kind of equally fancy hitting implement? 

At this point, Andrew knew all about fancy food, but what made for fancy sex toys?

Did these count as sex toys?

“You look a million miles away,” Steven said, as Andrew struggled into his new skinny jeans.

“Did you have to buy me new _underwear_?”

“Your other underwear had… it was dirty,” said Steven. 

“You mean with the jizz?”

He was razzing Steven - he knew he was razzing Steven, because how could he not? 

Steven was blushing, but he was standing firm, arms crossed across his chest, leaning against the doorframe. 

He didn’t usually watch Andrew change, but he’d been looking sidelong at Andrew the whole time.

Maybe he was making sure that Andrew was okay, after the intensity of everything with Jack. 

“If _I_ had… done that, I wouldn’t keep making jokes about it,” Steven said. 

He was blushing.

Andrew leaned in to dig through the bag, and took out a turquoise button down shirt. 

“I mean,” said Andrew, “we work at Buzzfeed. Buzzfeed _Scarlet_. We have literally watched our coworkers getting fucked with -”

“No “we” in this equation,” Steven interrupted. “I’m always doing other things when they do those shoots. And it’s not like I watch the videos later.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow. 

“If you’re always elsewhere, why are you suddenly so interested in watching me getting tied up and who even knows what else?”

“Because,” said Steven in a breezy tone of voice, “I’m trying to broaden my horizons.”

“Right,” said Andrew, as he put his shirt on and began to button it up carefully, “broadening your horizons.” 

Something about that rang false, but Andrew couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

Well, if Steven didn’t want to push it, Andrew wasn’t going to either. 

* * *

“I’m doing your hair,” Steven proclaimed.

He had changed clothes at some point - he looked nice. 

No, Steven always looked nice. 

He looked capital “n” Nice.

He was wearing jeans in a different cut, and his pale green shirt had a V neck - he was even wearing a blazer.

“Are you sure sending me to two different Dominants on the same day is a good idea?”

Andrew sat down, so that Steven could reach his hair, and he rested his elbows on his thighs, rubbing his eyes.

He wasn’t tired… exactly, but there was some kind of something on the edges of his mind.

At least the nap had invigorated him, and the shower had left him feeling more aware.

He yawned, stretched, and then he made a surprised noise, as Steven’s fingers began to comb through his hair.

“Your hair is all wet,” Steven complained.

“I took a shower,” said Andrew. “That’s what happens when you take a shower.”

“Well, yes,” said Steven, “but didn’t you dry it?”

“It dries on its own,” Andrew said.

Steven made an annoyed noise, and began to do… something to Andrew’s hair - Andrew couldn’t see anything, what with it being on the top of his head.

“Still,” said Steven. “You have nice hair. You should take better care of it.”

“I used that shampoo you got me,” Andrew protested.

He was blushing, just a bit - there was something about hearing Steven compliment him that always made Andrew a little tingly.

Maybe he was still feeling the after effects of making intense eye contact while having an orgasm.

That could probably do things.

“Hey, Steven?”

“Mmm?”

“Are we, like….”

Andrew floundered.

Steven’s fingers paused in Andrew’s hair, and then they were rubbing some strong smelling goop into Andrew’s hair. Not a bad smell, just strong. 

“Like?”

“Are we okay?” 

… wow, that sounded like they were dating. 

Um.

“What do you mean?”

Steven was mussing Andrew’s hair against the grain, which was an odd sensation, admittedly, but it was kind of nice.

Maybe Andrew’s whole body was just extra sensitive right now, and he was noticing things more.

Goosebumps were erupting down his neck, then along his back, waves and waves of it between his shoulder blades, along his sides.

“Are things, uh… are things, like, weird?”

“Weird?”

“You know. Because, uh… well. You’ve seen me….” Andrew cleared his throat.

“I’ve seen you what?”

“You saw me have an orgasm. Like, while all vulnerable. I know that can be… it can be weird.”

“I didn’t know you knew how to be vulnerable in the first place,” said Steven, as he combed more of the goop into Andrew’s hair. “I think I’m still recovering from that.”

Andrew snorted.

“Well,” he said, and he trailed off, then cleared his throat. “I don’t want things to be awkward,” he said, and he patted Steven on the knee.

… wow.

He was making it even more awkward.

This was practically a talent.

“If it’s awkward now,” Steven said, “just wait ‘til we see what this five thousand dollar dominatrix does to you!”

“... indeed,” said Andrew.

What _would_ this be like?

* * *

They arrived at the dominatrix’s house, and it was… well, it wasn’t exactly what Andrew had been expecting.

He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, truth be told - maybe more bondage furniture, or a mansion?

It was a bit like a doctor’s suite - the kind of place where there were a few different doctors in residence, so each door led to its own little world.

It was a large-ish building, connected to a veterinary hospital. 

The dominatrix was a tall black woman, her hair in long braids that she had, in turn gathered down her back in a ponytail. She was wearing a pair of glasses with thick, purple frames, a long flowing purple dress, and a pleasant expression.

Andrew was reminded of a certain class of therapist. 

“Hello,” she said, reaching a hand out, “I’m Mistress Melody.”

Ah.

That wasn’t a very therapist-y thing to say, was it?

“Hello,” said Andrew. “I’m Andrew. We’ve emailed?”

“Right,” said Melody, and she gave him a big, sunny smile.

He couldn’t help but smile back - there was something contagious about her expression.

“I’ll be going, then,” said Adam, and he gave a little half wave, before turning around, heading back to the car.

Melody had her own rules - she allowed filming in her space, but only if she was the one doing it. 

There were cameras set up around the place, and she’d release the footage after she’d gone over it, but _she_ was going to go over it.

Buzzfeed had agreed easily enough - she was willing to give up the profits for it, which was all that really mattered to them, at the end of the day. 

“See you in a few hours,” said Andrew.

“Bye,” said Steven.

Then Adam was gone. Steven looked downright _nervous_.

“Right,” said Melody, after Adam had gone back to the car. “So. How about we have some tea, and we can discuss the scene?”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Andrew. 

"Do you need me to be around, or can I go check out the lighting and the set up?"

"You're part of the scene as well," Melody pointed out, as she began to walk towards what was presumably the kitchen.

Andrew and Steven followed after her.

"I'm just going to be watching," Steven said, "providing color commentary."

"Well, yes, but an observer is as much a part of the scene as the person being observed," said Melody. "There's a reason that it's unethical to do kink things around people who haven't agreed to it beforehand."

"... right," mumbled Steven, and he was blushing, before they’d even gotten to the… interesting bits.

Andrew made to stuff his hands in his pockets, then realized that he would look uncouth if he did that, and anyway, these pants were probably too damn tight. 

"So I'll interview each of you," she said, as they walked into her small kitchen, "and then we can discuss it all together."

"Right," said Andrew.

Why was he beginning to feel like he'd bitten off more than he could chew?

* * *

The tea was very good.

She had a wide variety of them, and cookies as well - tea cookies.

He nibbled on Earl Grey shortbread as Steven and Melody went into a private room to the side with their own cookies and tea, discussing who knew what.

Steven came out about fifteen minutes later, looking extremely sheepish. 

... was Andrew imagining things, or was Steven walking a little funny?

There were white noise machines around the place, like at a therapist's office - this whole thing was beginning to feel more and more like therapy.

_She needs a chunky necklace,_ he thought, watching Melody snag a cookie, then gesture for him to follow after her. 

Andrew stood up dutifully, and followed after her into the small room.

It had two comfy chairs, and a small table. 

There was a small plate of cookies on that as well.

Did she keep cookies on every table in her house?

"So," she said, after she'd closed the door and they'd both settled in, "how are you feeling?"

"Pretty good," Andrew allowed. "Kind of nervous."

"Steven mentioned that you've already been to a Dom today," she said. "How was it?"

"It was... it wasn't what I expected," Andrew said.

"Would you mind telling me what you did with them?"

So Andrew told her - about the rope, about the "struggle tie," about the predicament bondage and coming in his pants. 

He even ended up mentioning the way he and Steven had kept eye contact, and the way that the camera had felt on his skin, which he honestly hadn't given much thought to at the time, but, well... go figure.

"Right," said Melody. "So tell me what you'd like from our session today."

"Um," said Andrew. "Well. I think... I think I'd like more rope. Maybe some pain, although I don't know a lot about pain."

"I've watched a bunch of your videos for Buzzfeed," she said, and her tone was casual as all hell, but he still found himself blushing. 

"Yeah?"

"You seem to take a great deal of pleasure out of feeding people," she told him. "Would you be interested in something like that?"

"I mean," said Andrew, "does that count as a kink?"

Melody gave him a slow, easy smile. 

"Darling, anything counts as a kink, if it makes you feel a certain way."

"And you think feeding people makes me feel a certain way?"

"Well," said Melody, "judging from the videos, I think it does."

"I don't think it's, like... a sexual thing," Andrew said, and he was staring down at his hands as he spoke, aware that he was blushing. 

"A kink doesn't necessarily have to be sexual," she told him. "It can just be something that feels satisfying."

"Right," he said, and his voice was a little rougher than he wanted it to be. "Um. Well, uh, in that case then, um. Yes. I'd be... I'd be okay with that. With feeding you."

"What do you want to feel, during the scene?"

"What do you mean?"

He looked up at her, and he could feel his face doing that thing it always did when he was confused, his eyebrows knitting together, his brow wrinkling up.

"Do you want to feel... scared? Loved? Embarrassed? Cared for? Dirty?"

"Oh," said Andrew. "Um."

He thought about it, drumming his fingers on the table, staring up at the light fixture as he tried to assemble his thoughts into some kind of order. 

"You don't have to answer me right away," she told him. "But I'd like you to think about it."

"I think...," Andrew said slowly, "I think I'd like to feel something new."

"Something new?"

"Yeah," he said. "Something I haven't felt before."

She snickered, and her expression was deeply amused.

"You're going to have to give me a bit more information than that," she told him. "I don't know what you have or haven't felt before."

"... oh. Right."

Andrew made an embarrassed noise.

"Well," she said, "you can start telling me, can't you?"

"... right," said Andrew.

So he talked to her.

He told her things he'd been interested in, things he'd like to try, things he _didn't_ what to try.

She had a way of making it seem like the silence was _listening_ , and he just... kept going.

She nodded, and made the occasional relevant comment, but otherwise let him keep talking.

When he trailed off, she grinned at him. 

"Well," she said brightly, "now let's have all three of us talk, hm?"

"This is an awful lot of talking," said Andrew, and he stood up, stretching, his arms over his head.

His shirt rode up a few inches - the air was cool on his bare belly - and her eyes were a warm weight on that spot.

So Steven had made a good choice.

He'd have to tell the guy. 

"It helps to know you, before I get inside your head and really fuck with it," she told him.

"That makes sense," he said.

"I often do," she agreed, and she opened the door.

He walked out, to find Steven on his phone, eating cookies.

* * *

The three way negotiation was the most awkward, honestly. 

"I want to, uh... just watch," said Steven. "No active participation."

"What about passive participation?" 

“What do you, uh… what does that mean?”

Steven shoved another cookie into his mouth, and Andrew resisted the urge to grab his wrist, give it a squeeze.

“Well, for example,” said Melody, “if I was spanking Andrew, and I told him to keep eye contact with you, would that be alright?”

“... yeah, sure,” said Steven, and he was blushing harder now. “Sure. As long as I don’t have to do anything.”

“You won’t have to do anything,” Melody assured him. 

“Right,” said Steven.

“Now, Andrew,” said Melody, “How do you feel about humiliation?” She grinned at him. “From what I’ve seen of your videos, I think it would be a novel experience for you.”

“... sure,” said Andrew. 

She did have a point - he was lacking in the shame gland. 

“What would not be okay?”

“Please don’t spit on me,” said Andrew, “and maybe don’t hurt my face.”

“But anything else is fair game?”

“Yeah,” Andrew said. “Yeah, if you think you can figure out a way to humiliate me, go for it.”

“Steven mentioned a few of his own interests,” said Melody. “Would you be interested in hearing any of them?”

“Well,” said Andrew, “as long as, uh, as long as they’re not on my hard limit list, I’d be good for it.”

“You sure?”

“Surprise me,” said Andrew.

Steven was being remarkably quiet, but then again, he tended to clam up when he was nervous or embarrassed.

Andrew shot him a few nervous glances, but Steven seemed to be taking it all in stride, apart from the pinkness of his ears.

There was a bit more talk - a much longer talk than Andrew had with Jack, to be sure, but basically the same talk - and then Melody rubbed her hands together.

“Alright,” she said, “I do believe I’m ready. Are you boys ready?”

Andrew nodded.

So did Steven.

* * *

Melody brought them into a large room, with big windows covered in deep red curtains and a lot of black leather furniture - a couch like something out of a gothic novel took up one wall, and an armchair like a particularly comfortable throne lurked in a corner. 

There was a big wooden table made of dark wood stood off to the side, the kind of table that you could probably butcher a cow on, and a few sturdy looking chairs. 

Something that looked like a giant wooden frame (the kind you’d see behind the scenes in a play, for backdrops maybe?) stood in the center of the room, which Andrew didn’t entirely… get, but then again, there were more things in heaven on earth etc etc. 

There was a downright intimidating wardrobe in the corner - it looked like it would lead to a place older and deeper than Narnia. 

The floor was covered in what looked like gym mats, and there was a small table off to the side that had rubber gloves, lube, baby powder, hand sanitizer, and who knew what else. 

Incongruously, there was a mini fridge in one corner. It looked like it had fallen out of someone’s dorm room.

There were various webcams set up around the place, blinking their little red lights at everyone. There were a few stationary cameras on tripods as well - all of them on. She must have prepped pretty intensely, before they’d arrived. 

“No shoes in the dungeon,” said Melody, when the two of them had crowded into the doorway.

“Right,” said Andrew, and he bent down, pulling his shoes off, then padding in. 

The gym mats were were soft, almost cushy under Andrew’s weight.

“Now,” said Melody, and she was looking Andrew up and down like a shark, “Steven, go sit down.”

“Okay,” said Steven.

Andrew turned to follow him, only to have a hand in his hair - Melody’s, forcing him to look her in the face.

“Eyes on me,” she told him.

He nodded.

She gave his hair a yank.

“Let’s try that again,” she said, and there was a note of warning in her voice. 

“Yes, ma’am,” said Andrew. 

“Good boy,” said Melody, and she patted his cheek. “Now… be a good boy and kneel, right here.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Andrew. 

He knelt, which was somewhat… difficult in his new jeans, but he managed, barely.

They creaked.

_Note to self: don’t wear new jeans when going to the dominatrix,_ he thought, and that was enough to bring a small smile to his lips. 

“Is something funny?”

She was grabbing his hair again, twisting it so that he was looking up at her.

“No, ma’am,” said Andrew. 

“So what’s put that look on your face?”

“I, uh… I’m wearing new clothes. They’re stiff. Ma’am,” he added, as an afterthought.

There was a snort from the table, and Andrew fought the urge to look up at Steven, who was probably sprawled out on a chair. 

“That was very nice of you, dressing up for me,” she said, and then her hands were moving down, palms pressed into the back of his skull, fingers moving down. “They do make your shoulders look very broad. Don’t they, Steven?”

“Yeah,” Steven said, from his spot at the table.Andrew looked over at him, only to have her hand on his cheek, forcing him to look up into her face.

“No,” she said. “Eyes on me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. 

“Now… as lovely as you look in that shirt, I want it off.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Andrew, and his hands went to unbutton his shirt.

“No,” she said. “Slower than that.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, slowing his movements obediently.

* * *

Andrew… tried.

He wasn’t very good at performing sexy - at least, not the way she seemed to expect him to.

She didn’t seem upset, at least.

He was ogled when he took his shirt off, and she ran her hands across his bare chest, telling him how nice he looked.

“Now,” she said, after she’d caressed him enough to leave his skin a mess of goosebumps, “tell me what you’d like me to do?”

“... ma’am?”

“What would you like me to do, right now?”

She looked at him with her bright eyes, and his heart beat very fast in his ears.

“Um,” he said. “Well. I’d, uh… please, I’d like to be… I’d like to be tied up, please. Ma’am.”

“You want to be tied up?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good boy, telling me what you want,” she said. Then she was turning him around, so that he was looking at Steven.

Steven had an elbow on the table, and was watching the two of them. 

“Andrew,” said Melody, “while I get the rope ready, talk to Steven.”

“Yes, ma’am,’ said Andrew.

“Hey Drew,” said Steven. 

“Mm?”

“Want to know a kink fact?”

“I thought we were doing BDSM facts, not kink facts,” said Andrew.

Steven rolled his eyes.

“I realized that if I was going to call it BDSM facts, it could only be about BDSM. The next fact is about shibari.”

“Shibari does fall under bondage,” said Andrew.

“He’s right,” said Melody from behind the both of them. 

Andrew looked over his shoulder, to see her digging through the wardrobe. 

“Eyes on him,” said Melody.

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am,” said Andrew, and then he was looking at Andrew.

“So shibari fact,” said Steven. “Did you know that the word “Shibari” means “to tie” in Japanese?”

“I did indeed,” said Melody, and then she was coming up behind Andrew, pressing her chest into his back, her hands on his shoulders. 

“The specific term for _sexually_ tying someone up is kinbaku,” Steven supplied.

“You did a bunch of research, huh?” Andrew tried to sound nonchalant, as Melody’s chest pressed into his back, and then there was soft, silky rope being passed across his chest.

“Well, yeah,” said Steven. “I wouldn’t want to offer a subpar episode, after all.”

“Somehow, I think people will be more distracted by all the hot sexy stuff,” said Andrew, as the rope was tied tighter.

This chest harness was more intricate than the one Jack had made, and Melody seemed to be humming as she worked on it. 

The rope was a beautiful ombre of greens and blues, and she was tying some kind of series of… webbing? 

Andrew couldn’t entirely tell, but then again, this was an odd angle.

His hands were tied together in front of him, and then the rope was going around to his waist, wrapped around his hips over his jeans.

“i learned this tie in Japan,” said Melody, “when I studied in a rope dojo.”

“There are rope dojos?”

Steven sounded surprised. 

“Oh yes,” said Melody, as the rope slithered across Andrew’s chest. She rattled off a few Japanese terms, describing the harness name, the different sorts of knots.

Andrew let the talk wash over him. He was falling into that same quiet, thoughtful place that he’d been in when Jack had been tying him.

“So Melody,” said Steven, “what kind of rope are you using?”

“This is bamboo rope,” said Melody, and her voice was faintly ticklish as it buzzed across Andrew’s skin, where her skin was pressed against his. “I dyed it, using dyes I made myself.”

“Can you tell us a bit about that process?”

“Certainly,” said Melody, and then she was talking.

Andrew zoned out, because he wasn’t really needed for this.

Melody was a good deal taller than he was, and she was strong; she manipulated him this way and that, her hands moving over his body with the ease of practice.

It was a bit like getting an especially fancy massage, and he let himself luxuriate in the nice sensations - the whisper of the rope over his skin, the softness of her hands, the warmth of her body, the back and forth of Steven and Melody talking and joking about rope. 

“Andrew,” Steven said, “you have anything to say?”

“I think he’s getting into rope space,” said Melody. “He might not be good for much conversation.”

“Rope space?”

That launched into another whole discussion about what rope space was - what _sub_ space was - and Andrew stayed tuned out. 

She was doing different ties on him, and she was just… good.

The ties flowed from one to another, as he was manipulated - arms behind his head, legs together, arms at his sides, a whole complicated sleeve with his arms behind him….

He was like an artist’s doll - those wooden ones you sometimes saw in hipster art installations, or art schools. 

The talk kept going, and he just sort of… floated.

It was warm in the room, and he was beginning to sweat.

Steven was animated - genuinely animated, as the two of them talked about… Andrew didn’t know.

Didn’t particularly care. 

And then his hands were tied together with rope cuffs, and there was a length of rope from his chest to his wrists, with enough slack to give him some range of movement. 

“Now,” said Melody, and she was helping Andrew to his feet, her arms around his waist, her chin on his shoulder, “Andrew, you’re going to be a good boy and go to the fridge for me.”

Andrew blinked, coming back to his senses, more or less.

“What’s up?”

She yanked on the rope, and it moved across his nipples in such a way as to make him squirm.

He was hard already. 

Huh.

When had that happened?

“Ma’am,” said Andrew. “Could you repeat that, please?”

“Be a good boy and go to the fridge,” said Melody. “There is a bowl of blueberries. Go get me that bowl.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Andrew. 

Melody was going to sit next to Steven, and they were talking about… something.

Andrew wasn’t really paying attention - he was still lost in the sensation of the rope holding him, the tightness of his pants, the way the mats depressed under his weight as he walked.

He was… _aware_ of his body, aware of it in a way he wasn’t usually, from the rope rubbing across his chest and his wrists all the way to the goosebumps erupting across his back where Steven and Melody were staring at his back. 

The blast of cold air when he opened the fridge was enough to make him shiver, and he took the berries out carefully.

They were in a metal bowl, which was equally cold, and he carried it carefully to the table, setting it down with a “clunk.”

“Good boy,” said Melody. “Now feed it to Steven.”

“Wait, to me?”

Steven looked surprised.

“Oh yes,” said Melody. 

“Don’t you want any, ma’am?”

Andrew looked over at her, and he was aware that he was making that same concerned face, where his brows knit together and his forehead furrowed up.

Melody’s hand came up, and her thumb smoothed the line between his brows; his face began to relax. 

“Feed them to Steven,” she told him.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Andrew, and he made eye contact with Steven.

Steven looked nervous, but he gave a thumbs up. 

* * *

Steven’s mouth was very warm, and the blueberries were very cold.

The contrast was enough to make Andrew’s toes curl, and he was trying not to blush too hard, as he held a blueberry out to Steven’s mouth.

Steven took the blueberry in his mouth, and he seemed to be blushing more.

“Andrew,” said Melody, and Steven looked over at her again, his head in some kind of space that he didn’t entirely understand, “I want you to ask for what you want from Steven.”

“What I want from Steven?”

“Yes. If you could have anything from Steven right now, what would you like?”

_I want to make fun of his stupid hair,_ thought Andrew, or _I want to see Steven tied up too._

“I want to put my fingers in his mouth,” said Andrew instead, except he hadn’t expected to say that, because… um. 

“Is that alright, Steven?”

Melody’s tone was one of polite inquiry, but Andrew could barely hear it, over the blood pounding in his ears.

And then his fingers were in Steven’s mouth, pressing down on Steven’s tongue, and his other hand was on Steven’s chin, cupping it, the tips of his fingers against Steven’s throat. 

“Thank Steven,” said Melody.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Andrew mechanically. “Thank you, Steven.”

He hadn’t expected Steven to do much more than just… hold them in his mouth, but Steven’s lips were closing around his fingers, and then he was _sucking_ on them.

What the fuck. 

He was… sucking on them, and Andrew’s cock was beginning to throb painfully in his jeans. It was like being a teenager all over again, only moreso, because he knew what his dick could _do_.

There was more sucking, and he was squirming, his mouth falling open, his chest heaving.

Fuck. 

“How you doing, Andrew?”

“Fine,” said Andrew. “Perfectly fine. Ma’am.”

She smiled at him sunnily.

“Good,” she said. “Now… let’s move on.” 

* * *

“You mentioned you were interested in wax play,” Melody said, and she was spreading a tarp out on the floor.

Andrew eyed the tarp, glanced at Steven, then gave a mental shrug.

He’d heard that it was a bad time once the tarps came out, but… eh. 

He’d agreed to come here to try things, so why not try things?

She’d stop if he asked her to, and that was the important part, right?

Might as well get his (well, Buzzfeed’s) money’s worth, right?

So he lay flat on his back, currently unwrapped from all the rope, and she rubbed oil into his skin with her strong hands.

The oil smelled faintly like citrus, and it glided along his skin silkily, leaving him squirming, holding on to the tarp.

“How does it feel, Drew?”

Steven was sprawled out, his elbows on the table, watching the two of them. 

“I feel like I’m about to be cooked,” said Andrew. 

“Tell us about the oil,” sand Steven.

“This is a specialty oil,” she said, and then she was talking about the details,

Andrew wasn’t paying attention, yet again - her hands were warm, kneading at his chest, and then she was talking about the candles - they were specialty candles in glass pitchers.

“Are you going to make him look pretty?”

Steven’s voice was cheerful, friendly.

He seemed to have recovered from his shock at sucking Andrew’s fingers.

“I think he’s already pretty,” said Melody, and then there was the scent of sulfur, and the sound of a match being struck.

“So how does this work?”

Andrew looked up at the both of them, lazy and comfortable in spite of himself.

“I rub oil onto his skin,” said Melody, “and then I’m going to pour the wax onto Andrew’s chest. I’m going to use this special tool to scrape it off, once it’s dry.”

“Right,” said Andrew. 

“Is that a bread scraper?”

Steven sounded amused.

“Well spotted,” said Melody, and she laughed. “You’ve seen one before, huh?”

“We’ve seen people bake bread,” said Andrew. 

“That would make sense,” said Melody. “I guess I missed that episode.”

And then there was hot wax being poured onto Andrew’s chest.

That… that was not what he had expected.

It was warm, and it was wet, dripping down his sides, already beginning to harden a bit.

… good thing he’d shaved his chest.

“Purple is my favorite color,” Melody said, “so I’m going to put that down as the base layer, but what should I do next, Steven?”

“How about some blue?”

“Blue and purple is always a good combo,” Melody agreed.

“We should do this for a live stream,” Andrew said, although his voice was coming from somewhere else.

He was floating, just a bit, enjoying the warmth against his skin. 

“Hm?”

More wax, this time pooling into the dip of his belly, right over the waistband of his jeans. 

“Let the viewers choose the colors.”

More wax, dripping along his chest now, and Andrew closed his eyes.

If he were naked, he’d have asked for wax along his inner thighs, but… no, his pants were going to stay on. 

He wasn’t ready for his dick to be seen by the whole internet. 

And then there was more wax, and more, and his eyes were shut, his mouth open.

He was just a body on a tarp, as warmth was pooling through his limbs, leaving him lazy and stiff at the same time, as liquid as the wax.

There was enough wax on him now that he couldn’t feel the new wax as anything but more heat, until she moved along his sides again, more wax pooling under him. 

There was more talking, and there was something really nice about it - about being talked over, as if he wasn’t there.

Sure, he was on camera, but he was here to be a lovely object, he was here to be attractive, he was here to just enjoy the sensations as they danced across his nerves. 

And then there was a hand on his forehead, and he was opening his eyes, looking up into Melody’s face.

“I’m going to start taking the wax off of you now,” she said, in a gentle tone of voice. “You ready?”

He nodded, then; “yes, ma’am.”

* * *

Getting the wax scraped off was an oddly satisfying sensation - it was a bit like peeling a sunburn.

She pulled the wax off of him in long strips, and then she would poke or pinch the pink, sensitive skin, making him squirm.

… he might’ve gotten harder.

Maybe.

By the time he was fully cleared of the wax, he was trembling, and when she helped him sit up and handed him a glass of water, his hands were shaking enough that the water sloshed.

“You okay, Drew?”

Steven was shooting Andrew a nervous look. 

“I’m good,” Andrew said. “I’m just… feeling everything. At once.”

“What, everything? Like, even stepping in dog poop levels of everything?”

… that brought Andrew up short, and it got Melody cackling.

“Well,” said Andrew. “Okay. Maybe not that.”

“Good to know,” said Steven. “For future reference.”

“Right,” said Andrew, although he had no idea what Steven was talking about. 

“So are you ready to try something new?” 

Andrew grinned at her. 

“Bring it on,” he said. 

* * *

Andrew was being suspended.

He’d discussed his interest in it - what that meant, how it was done - but now his legs were tied, his heels digging into the backs of his thighs, the rope biting into him comfortably.

He was in a hip harness, and she had connected rope to the big frame.

Steven had scooted his chair closer, and he was watching Andrew getting trussed up with wide eyes.

“So the trick for this kind of thing,” said Melody, and she was talking to Steven now, as she tied Andrew’s arms behind his back, his wrists pressed together, “is to make sure that the weight is evenly distributed.”

The rope was tight, even through the denim of his jeans, but it glided like a snake over him, and he was just… flying.

That was an interesting sensation. 

He was noticing it from a long way off, the same way he was noticing the way the air conditioner was blowing across his back, or the way that Steven was staring at him.

Melody seemed to be leading the conversation; Steven seemed distracted.

Huh.

Andrew would have to think about that a bit.

And then she was… tying rope up around his crotch, adding to the hip harness, only this was a _lot_ fancier - the rope was against the head of his cock, pressing his cock into his thigh, and he was very much hard now. 

Very much.

Oh wow. 

His cock was throbbing in time with the pounding in his ears, and the rope was beginning to burn, but pleasantly.

“So we’re going to try to humiliate you now, Andrew,” said Melody. “How should we do this?” 

“Um,” said Andrew. 

“He has no shame,” said Steven. 

“Well,” said Melody, and she was looking at Andrew with a speculative expression, “only one way to find out, really.” 

* * *

They tried a few things. 

She put him in makeup - Andrew didn’t particularly see the humiliation of that.

“Forced feminization doesn’t work on you much, does it?”

“Not really, sorry,” said Andrew, and he shifted, as she ran her fingers through his hair, forcing his head back, wiping his face off with a wipe.

“It’s fine,” she told him, and she kissed him on his forehead, tugging on the rope so that it was rubbing along his shaft, and that was enough to make his toes curl. “We’ll just find something else.”

* * * 

Verbal humiliation didn’t work much either, and Andrew was beginning to come out of that nice, floaty place, although Melody’s hands stroking along his chest, sides, and belly were making him squirm some more. 

“I’m going to try something a little more personal,” said Melody, and then she was pressing closer. “Andrew, keep your eyes on Steven.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Andrew, and he did indeed make eye contact with Steven.

Steven, whose eyes were wide, whose eyes kept going up and down Andrew’s body, licking his lips. 

“He likes you like this,” said Melody, and her voice was sweet, almost teasing in his ear. “I can tell.”

Andrew flushed. 

“Oh yeah,” said Melody, “found it.”

Andrew squirmed some more, and he was biting his lip now, because… yeah, Steven was shifting in place, pressing his thighs together, his hands white knuckled on his knees. 

“Steven is watching you,’ she said, “and he’s getting off on it. He wanted me to do one specific thing to you. He wanted you to do it to yourself, but I don’t think you can, in your… present condition.”

“Mm?”

Andrew squirmed a bit, and the rope bit into him.

He was going to have marks.

“Be a good boy,” said Melody, and then she was pressing against his back again, and he had a bottle of water pressed to his lips. “Drink.”

Andrew began to drink, and it dripped down the sides of his chin, down his chest, his chest. The water was cool as it washed down his throat, and he hadn’t realized just how dry his throat had been. 

Steven was watching the way his Adam’s apple bobbed; he could tell.

He kept drinking, until the bottle was empty, and then she was giving him another one, as she whispered various kinds of filth in his ear.

He… wasn’t sure what was going on, but he was still flying (literally and metaphorically), his whole body on edge.

When he opened his eyes, he made eye contact with Steven, and he licked his lips.

Steven was watching with wide eyes, and he was visibly panting, his whole face red and shiny with sweat. 

“You’re getting harder,” she said in his ear. “He wants to see you make a mess of yourself, but you can’t, can you?”

He shook his head, and some of the water went cascading down his chest, soaking into the rope, then into the waistband of his jeans. 

He shuddered, and he licked his lips; the water was cold.

And then she was _pouring the water down his chest_ , over his belly, soaking into the crotch of his jeans, down the insides of his thighs, and then Steven was _moaning_ , which was unexpected, and Andrew moaned as well, his face red, all of him shaking. 

Had he ever been this turned on?

God, imagine… imagine if Steven was against his back, was grinding against Andrew’s ass, Steven’s hands up and down Andrew’s sides, Andrew’s chest. 

Steven’s eyes were glued to Andrew’s crotch, and that was… well.

Well.

Andrew was so hard, and he wanted to come, but he was missing just the right amount stimulation - he couldn’t come without more stimulation, but his cock was twitching, he wanted it so badly, but… oh… _fuck_.

“Well,” said Melody, and she was stepping back, “I think it’s time we start winding down.”

“Right,” said Steven, in a slightly strangled voice. “Sounds like a plan.”

“How are you doing, Andrew?”

Melody’s voice was sweet, right in his ear.

“Good,” said Andrew in a thick voice. “Real… real good.”

* * *

She untied him. 

She untied him, she dried him off (his pants were still damp, and his cock was still achingly hard), she wrapped him in a blanket and cuddled him.

Steven left for that bit - he said he was going to call Adam, but Andrew suspected that he was just uncomfortable with seeing the intimacy.

Andrew couldn’t blame the guy - he’d have been uncomfortable with it, too. 

Oh well.

Andrew let himself be held, and he let himself be cuddled, his eyes sliding shut, his chest rising and falling as he just took in the air.

“Do you want me to help you with that?”

Her hand was sliding between his thighs, pressing down on the wet denim.

He pushed her hand away firmly, but gently.

“No thanks,” he said.

She kissed him on the cheek, a loud, smacking kiss that made his ear ring.

“Thanks for playing with me,” she said. “That was fun.”

“I’m glad,” he said. “I had fun too.”

This all felt a bit like the end of a birthday party, when you were about to get your treat bag, and he had to bite his lip to keep from snickering.

She patted him on the hip.

“You ready to put clothes on?” 

“I’m wearing clothes,” Andrew said.

She made an amused noise.

“Ready to put a shirt on,” she amended. 

“Right,” he said, and then he yawned, not moving.

* * * 

He put on his shirt - the nice button down - and Melody complimented him on his shoulders, squeezing them.

He blushed.

He made his way back to the kitchen, to find Steven at the table, drinking a cup of tea.

“How are you feeling?”

“Feeling good,” Andrew said, and he gave a dreamy smile.

“You’ll want to go home and eat,” Melody said. “Get some sleep. Relieve any stressors… in whatever way you choose to do so.”

Andrew blushed in spite of himself.

So did Steven, which was a surprise.

“And you want me to call you again tomorrow?”

“I do indeed,” said Melody, and she smiled at him.

He smiled back.

* * *

They ate cookies, and they drank tea, waiting for Adam.

Melody and Steven got into a whole conversation about some fancy brand of clothing - Andrew wasn’t really paying attention, he was still flying high on all of the endorphins, his cock still hard in his jeans, his heart still pounding in his ears. 

Adam came in, and he was looking as unflappable as ever. 

“Have fun?”

Andrew nodded, and he was blushing, just a bit. 

He gave Melody a hug, and then they were on their way. 

* * *

Andrew talked in the car, although he forgot what he said as soon as he said it.

Who knew he could be this loopy? 

He usually considered himself fairly well put together, but his mind was a million miles away.

Admittedly, he’d done two different intense kink scenes, and now he had to pee.

Actually, he really had to pee.

He should have gone before they left, goddamnit.

“Andrew,” said Steven, when the camera went off - there had been jokes and more BDSM facts, and Andrew had talked about the two different experiences. 

He still wasn’t sure which he would recommend - they had both been so _different_.

Although he was pretty sure that he prefered the bamboo rope to the nylon.

“Hm?”

Andrew looked over at Steven, blinking, trying to get his brain in order.

“Your jeans are almost dry,” Steven said, and he reached over to squeeze Andrew’s thigh, as they drove through LA traffic.

“Yeah,” said Andrew. “Neat.”

“You’re a total space cadet,” said Steven, and his tone was all business now. “I’ll stay over tonight.”

“What.”

Andrew’s voice was flat.

“You need someone to keep you from walking into things,” said Steven. “I’ll sleep on the couch, I can keep you company if you go through… what’s it called?”

“Sub drop,” Adam supplied from the backseat.

“Yes, exactly. Sub drop.”

“You want to help me ride out my sub drop?”

“Yes. Yes, that, exactly. We can watch a few movies, order some food, go to bed…. It’ll be good for you.”

Andrew was too loopy. 

He gave a thumbs up.

* * * 

In retrospect, he should have gone to the bathroom when they dropped off Adam.

But he didn’t.

Instead, they began to drive towards Andrew’s building, Steven behind the wheel, occasionally singing along with the radio, shooting an anxious glance at Andrew now and then.

“I didn’t know feeding people could count as a fetish,” Steven said, after about five minutes of silence.

“I mean, uh… it can, I guess” said Andrew. 

He had to pee so badly that his entire lower body was throbbing.

How had he gone from zero to “I’m gonna piss my pants” quite so quickly?

Andrew bit his lip. 

“Is it? For you?”

“I don’t think it’s a fetish,” Andrew said. “I just think it’s, y’know, nice.”

“Right,” said Steven, then; “I have some things I think are nice.”

“Do you?”

This was a fraught conversation; some kind of fraught conversation that he didn’t entirely understand - his head hurt, and he was too damn horny… sort of.

He had to pee so badly that he was almost getting hard, except he _wasn’t_ hard, thank fuck, and it was taking them entirely too long to get to his house, and he was… god.

“I… you look nice. Today.”

“Thanks,” said Andrew. “You _did_ pick out the clothes.”

“You looked good before that,” Steven said, and okay, yeah, Andrew was _definitely_ picking up on… something.

“Well, Jack is a professional - they probably know what they’re doing with all that rope.”

“Yeah,” said Steven. “And, uh… was it… nice, when you, uh… released?”

Welp.

This conversation had somehow managed to be _more_ awkward than Andrew had thought it could be.

He’d have to congratulate Steven on that, when he stopped blushing so hard and could think. 

They went over a pothole, and that was a jolt to his bladder - he made a little whimpering noise, and he grabbed between his legs, because… _fuck it_. 

“I mean,” Andrew said, “it was an orgasm. Orgasms in general are nice.”

“Was it, uh… hm.”

“Hm?”

“It was nice… seeing you do it. And seeing what, uh… what happened. When you did.” 

“... do you have, like, a fetish for watching people’s orgasms? There’s this website that has pictures of people’s faces while they come -”

“No, that’s not it,” Steven said quickly, as he made a turn, down Andrew’s block. “I, uh… it… that is….”

“Hm?”

Andrew was still squirming.

“You need to pee,” said Steven. “How badly?”

“Pretty badly,” said Andrew, although the subject change was going to give him whiplash. 

“Does it… what does it feel like?”

… huh. Andrew spoke before he could think better of it. 

“Steven, do you have a piss kink?”

Steven actually _flinched_ , and Andrew did as well, internally.

“Sorry,” he said. “I, uh… I suppose, it might be a thing that some people are into. Some people who might be interested. And I guess I might be… I might be one of them. I might like… some things.”

“... you told Melody you want to see me pee my pants, don’t you?”

It was like a lightbulb going off in Andrew’s head.

“Not in those, uh, those words,” Steven said, as they pulled into the parking lot of Andrew’s building. “I just didn’t, uh… didn’t realize it. Until I saw you release, and... put some thoughts together. As it were.”

Andrew bit his lip, trying not to rock too much, pressing the heel of his hand against the head of his cock. 

“And Melody helped you figure that out?”

“Yeah,” said Steven, his voice very quiet.

“So you want me to… pee on you?”

Steven’s ears were turning red. 

“I… could you….”

“Steven,” Andrew said carefully, and then he was unbuckling his seatbelt, opening his car door, “I am going to go into the apartment. If you want me to pee on you or… whatever, well… you’ve seen me get tied up, I figure we’re at that point.”

“There’s a _point_?!”

Steven sounded out of his depth.

“I feel like, once one person has seen another person orgasm, you’re at a certain point,” said Andrew. “So if you want to watch me pee, or me to pee on you or… something, that’s all fine, just… I need to know _right now_ , or I am going to die.”

“You’re not going to die,” said Steven, but he was getting out of the car, locking the door behind him, and then they were both hurrying towards the front door.

Andrew was trying not to grab his own crotch, trying not to bounce, trying not to do a whole bunch of other things.

He was biting his lip, and he was beginning to shake.

They were waiting in the elevator together, and his toes were curling, his fingernails digging into his palms.

“She dumped the water on you for me,” Steven said, and he looked like he was feeling guilty.

“I figured,” Andrew said thickly, and now he was stamping his feet, shifting from leg to leg, rocking his whole body.

“Was I that obvious?”

Steven was blushing harder now.

“Kind of,” Andrew said, and he was mashing the button for his floor.

“That’s not gonna make it go any faster,” said Steven.

“No, it won’t,” Andrew agreed, “but if I don’t do something with my hands I am going to explode.”

‘You won’t explode,” said Steven. “You’ll be fine.” 

“Easy for you to say,” Andrew groused, and he was digging his fingers into his own arm now, hard.

Steven grabbed at Andrew’s hand, and he squeezed it. 

Andrew squeezed back, and he was trying not to squeeze too hard, trying not to think about anything, even as his entire lower body throbbed like a broken tooth.

“How bad is it?”

“Really bad,” Andrew said.

And then the elevator dinged, and Andrew jumped - he almost let out a little spurt of pee, holding back just barely. 

He shook off Steven’s hand. He stumbled out of the elevator, towards his apartment door. 

And then he was fumbling with his keys, trying to get them out of his pocket as his hands shook.

“I want to see you wet your pants,” Steven burst out.

“I know,” Andrew said shortly, as he finally held his keys in his hand, trying to cram the key into the lock. 

“And you’re… you’re okay with that?”

“I’m okay with it,” Andrew said through gritted teeth, “but I need to not pee my pants in the hallway.”

“Oh,” said Steven. “Um. Right.”

Andrew turned the key, unlocked the door, and then he was falling into his apartment, kicking his shoes off.

“Okay,” Andrew said, and he looked at Steven, who was closing the door behind them. “Moment of truth. I need you to tell me what you - mmf!”

Steven knocked into Andrew, pressing Andrew into the front door, and his mouth was on Andrew’s in an awkward, sloppy kiss.

_Oh,_ Andrew thought. _This isn’t just about the piss thing, then._

And then Steven’s hand was between them, pressed into Andrew’s crotch, and Andrew groaned when Steven found the head of his cock, squeezing.

“Oh,” Andrew mumbled. “ _Oh_ , fuck, Steven, Steven, I’m… going… I’m….”

“Do it,” Steven mumbled, his mouth against Andrew’s. “Do it, please, please, do it, _do it_!”

And Andrew let go.

It took a second.

Even as badly as he had to go, it was surprisingly hard to piss himself - potty training was buried in pretty deep. 

He almost sobbed, as his bladder let go, and it was soaking into the crotch of his jeans, soaking into his thighs, running down his legs.

“It’s wet,” Steven said, and his fingers were on Andrew’s cock, beginning to rub it through the wet denim.

It was… it was gross, and it was hot as all fuck, as his cock began to swell, throbbing in his jeans, and he was shaking, as Steven kissed him again, kissed him harder, his tongue jabbing into Andrew’s mouth, his hand awkwardly rubbing Andrew’s cock.

Andrew pressed his damp knee between Steven’s legs, his hands on Steven’s shoulders, and Steven was humping his thigh, grinding his own cock against Andrew’s leg.

He was full on rutting, and he was rubbing harder, and Andrew was on edge - from holding his bladder for so long, from almost coming earlier, from the whole goddamn day of being teased and tormented - and he was pressing harder, his hands sliding to Steven’s hair, burying his fingers in it, twisting it around them.

Steven made some kind of desperate noise, and then he was going stiff, shaking, and Andrew watched Steven’s face, as the other man came.

… Steven’s orgasm face was a lot like Steven’s truffle eating face, and how was Andrew supposed to go on with his life knowing that?

“You’re taking a while to come,” Steven said, when he’d caught his breath.

He was still rubbing Andrew awkwardly, and Andrew’s cock was twitching like a tuning fork.

“Steven,” Andrew said, “you’re rubbing me through tight denim and wet boxers, It’s a miracle I can feel it at all.”

“Oh,” said Steven. “Do you want me to take your, uh… take you out?”

“You’ve done that before,” Andrew pointed out, because he was practically _high_ on endorphins at this point. “We’ve gone out tons of times!”

“You know what I mean,” Steven groused, but his fingers were nimble as he undid the buttons to Andrew’s pants, unzipping them carefully, and then he was reaching in, heedless of the wetness, drawing out Andrew’s shaft, and he was stroking it desperately. 

“Fuck,” said Andrew. “Fuck, yeah, at the head, just like….”

Both of Andrew’s feet were planted on the floor now, and he was leaning heavily against the door, and Andrew was beginning to get weak in the knees.

This was better than humping the wet denim, although his piss was drying tackily. His cock was beginning to swell, hot and throbbing in Steven’s hand.

Andrew’s pre-come was beginning to leak out of the tip, drooling down the shaft, wetting Steven’s hand, and Andrew was clutching at Steven’s shoulders, wrinkling Steven’s shirt, and then he was sobbing, because the sweet pleasure was beginning to crest inside of him, and it was so sweet, so tight, pulling tighter and tighter in his gut. 

“Drew,” Steven said, right against Andrew’s lips, “do it, please, I need….”

And then Andrew was coming, the pressure throbbing through him like a wave, and his cock was spitting come across Steven’s hand, down onto the floor.

“Fuck,” Andrew said, and his voice cracked.

“You okay?”

Steven sounded worried.

Andrew leaned in, and he kissed Steven again - no kink this time, no excitement of them fucking, just the two of them, kissing.

There had been a whole lot of feelings behind those kisses of Steven’s, and Andrew had a few suspicions.

Steven kissed him back, and then he pulled back, panting, his eyes dark.

“You should - or, uh, is it we? - should shower.”

Steven was blushing as he said it, and he wasn’t meeting Andrew’s eyes.

“You think?”

Andrew let go of Steven’s shirt, and then he made a face.

“Yeah,” said Steven. “And mop the floor.”

“In a sec,” Andrew said, slumping against the door. 

Steven snorted.

“You made a mess,” he told Andrew, and his cheeks were still pink.

“Well,” said Andrew, “it was at least partially your fault.” 

“So I should only have to partially clean it up!”

Andrew rolled his eyes.

Weird kinky stuff or no, Steven was still Steven.

**Author's Note:**

> Like this fic?
> 
> Want me to write you something like it, or something completely different?
> 
> Come talk to me on my tumblr, theseusinthemaze.tumblr.com!


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